


Like a Virgin

by DaftPunk_DeLorean



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Kissing, M/M, Multi, OT6, OT6 of kissing, Recreational Drinking, Steve is Not a Virgin, and we know our boy never backs down from a challenge, everyone says he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaftPunk_DeLorean/pseuds/DaftPunk_DeLorean
Summary: Everyone on the team assumes Steve is a virgin, that he's never even been kissed. One night, he decides to set them straight. All of them.





	

Tony slopped another measure of fine scotch into Steve’s glass, half of it landing on his hand. Steve wiped it on his shirt, looking up at Tony with an exasperated sigh.

“Tony, you- I’ve had enough…” he muttered, but Tony waved an unsteady hand vaguely, dismissing him.

“Nope. We’re all drinking Cap, it’s a celebration! No wet blankets, bottoms up!” he said cheerfully, tipping Steve’s glass up to his lips, so that Steve had to hastily drink, or risk spilling it all in his lap. It wasn’t that it wasn’t good; oaky, warm, hint of smoky caramel and vanilla, but the problem was that Steve wasn’t any drunker now than he was four shots ago, a fact that seemed to slip out of everyone’s minds the more he drank. Steve gave Tony a glare and a resigned sigh, then drained the glass and held it out for more. They’d believe what they wanted, he supposed. If Tony had more fun thinking Steve was drunk, then by god, Steve would let him think that. He slid down in his chair and let himself look loose and relaxed.

“That’s more like it,” Tony crowed, topping him up before turning to the rest of the group and brandishing the bottle triumphantly. “And our fair Captain has finally joined the party!” The others made cheering sounds, and Steve just chuckled. Right. It wasn’t that he wasn’t having a good time, but he just couldn’t believe the stamina of Tony’s unwavering insistence that there not be anyone left sober. Hell, even Bruce was going along for it, slowly sipping a merlot so dry that Steve felt like he’d licked a sandbox when he tried it. He made a face as Bruce laughed. 

“I like it,” Bruce said with a self-deprecating smirk. “It keeps me from drinking too fast.”

“Your tongue is stained purple,” Steve commented. Bruce stuck it out mischievously, grinning as he returned to his glass.

“Ah, well… shit happens,” Bruce murmured as dryly as the merlot in his glass. 

They were piled comfortably around the living room, surrounded by empty bottles and takeout containers, some bizarre mix of Tony’s playing in the background that seemed to have a little sample of everyone’s favorite types of music, from rock to sitar. 

“And I swear to god she made me come in my pants twice just talking to me the right way. Jesus, I felt like I was in high school all over again,” Tony said, recounting some long, explicitly detailed story of sexual conquest. Tony leaned over on the couch and reached his foot out, kicking Steve’s leg. “That get the blush crawling down your chest yet, Cap?” he asked, and Clint snorted. Steve arched a brow, not moving from his slumped position in his chair.

“You trying to scandalize me Tone? You think I’ve never been kissed, or something?”

“Well, if the girdle fits…” Tony said, half teasing, half asshole. Steve knocked back the rest of his drink, knowing that Tony seemed to think that his lips might loosen if he’s had enough to drink. Steve held out his glass, and Thor topped it up with something he brought in from an oaken cask. 

“You know, I _did_ spend a year traveling with a bunch of girls on the USO tour, and was the only fella most of them talked to that whole time. And then I fought overseas after that. I’m 95, not dead,” Steve said with fond exasperation. Tony just leaned forward, his eyes sly, narrowed, and very interested. 

“…Aaaand? You’ve never led anyone to believe you were more than the 90-year-old virgin, Cap. I would think anyone who spent a year looking up the sequined skirts of three dozen dancing girls might have shared a few stories before now,” Tony drawled with the air of someone making an irrefutable point. Steve sighed, sipping at the honeyed mead in his glass.

“Maybe you didn’t need to know about it.”

“Maybe there’s nothing for you to tell me about,” Tony challenged, and the others watched back and forth with avid eyes, as though following a tennis match. And to be honest, all this talk was making Steve kind of antsy. Oh, he _definitely_ had experience. He just didn’t talk about it. He’d had just about every girl on the USO tour, as a matter of fact, although it had admittedly come after a lot of awkward fumbling, inexperience and frustration. He’d even had a few dates and a _really_ lovely three-day weekend since waking up, with a nice gal who waitressed at the diner he liked to go to. 

But yeah… when you spent so much time not talking about what you did between the sheets, talking about it _really_ brought it to attention, in a manner of speaking. And not in the least because Tony’s story had been painfully explicit, and Steve was having a really hard time right now trying not to imagine the lines and curves of Tony’s body, gently bathed in blue light and a sheen of sweat, moving against his lover. Honestly, it would be hard not to think of any of his teammates like that once in awhile, seeing as they were all as stacked as gods and goddesses. Steve squirmed, and Tony leaned in a little closer. Steve could smell the liquor on his breath.

“No….” Tony murmured thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. Cap, I think I’d put money on the fact that you’ve never even been kissed.” 

“You think I’m some sort of prude?” 

“I do. And I think you need to be kissed, urgently. It’s a matter of national importance. Nat!” Tony turned in his seat, craning his head so he could see Natasha on the other end of the couch. Natasha rolled her eyes at Tony, but eyed Steve up and down appreciatively.

“As a professional courtesy, of course,” she said with an arched brow, standing and pretending to be less tipsy than she actually was. Steve nodded once at her.

“Of course,” he said gravely. He stood and found his eyes pulled to Natasha’s full, rosy lips, still glistening with a sheen of fine Russian vodka. She stood on her tiptoes and Steve bent politely to meet her, accepting her chaste kiss, grinning against her lips when Tony whooped. She grinned too, not pulling away, and Steve felt a hot streak of defiance rush through him like the heat of liquor. 

He pulled her close with an arm around her waist, tangling the other in her hair, and angled their lips, tasting hers with his tongue. She gasped, but went soft and met his tongue with hers. He got nasty fast, breathing hot and nibbling her bottom lip, pressing the whole, hard, length of his body against hers. She let out the tiniest moan and Steve licked into her mouth, smirking against her lips when that brought a round of hoots and hollers from everyone else.

When they finally broke apart, Natasha betrayed her surprise with noticeably dilated eyes, slightly reddened cheeks, and breathless panting. She looked up at Steve with amused incredulity, and Steve grinned down at her broadly, his face the perfect balance between innocence and hedonism. Natasha returned his grin with an affectionate swat on the arm.

“Professional courtesy, huh?” She asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Steve replied, earning him another swat.

Natasha went back to her end of the couch and flopped down, shoving lightly at Clint’s shoulder when he whispered something at her. Steve smiled at the others mischievously.

“Who’s next?” he asked, and the other men suddenly fell silent, looking around at each other as if trying to figure out if Steve was joking or not, obvious sexual tension suddenly springing up uncomfortably between them all. Steve had shared more than a few kisses (and more) with Bucky, but he held that close to his heart. But the fact that his friends didn’t know this gave him an unmistakable sense of smug glee. The silence was broken within seconds, when Bruce stood quickly, blushing behind his glasses, lips slightly parted as he set his wine aside. 

“Me,” he said, his voice surprisingly clear. Steve looked at him, impressed, and gestured him over. Then whatever expectations he had were shattered. 

Bruce approached him like a panther stalking his prey, and almost roughly pulled Steve down to his level with a hand at Steve’s nape, wrapping him up in his arms tightly. Steve immediately acquiesced; something about Bruce’s demeanor was unquestionably dominant. It was a trait Steve had never noticed about him before, but looking back at Bruce’s constant, tightly wound self-control, it seemed so obvious now. 

Bruce kissed him hard and desperate, taking and taking, until Steve was light-headed. He kissed Steve like it was the last time anyone would ever touch him again, and Steve felt like he was drowning in it. Steve was stunned, his hands hovering uselessly at Bruce’s waist as Bruce utterly consumed him, leaving him helpless and entirely unaware of the commotion that was happening in the rest of the room.

They didn’t part until Tony slid up behind Bruce and rested his hands on Bruce’s hips. 

“My turn,” Tony murmured in Bruce’s ear, and Bruce drew back slowly, eyes closed, inhaling the breath from Steve’s lungs as he went. Bruce finally opened his eyes, and his gaze was so intense that Steve felt pinned, especially when Bruce wiped a tiny bit of moisture from his bottom lip with his thumb. Steve found himself licking his own bottom lip in response, feeling well and truly schooled. 

“Jesus, Bruce,” he breathed, and Bruce quirked a corner of lips, returning to his merlot without another word. 

As soon as Steve turned his head, Tony came in fast and deep, controlling and frantic, just about knocking Steve over. It was all show, like Tony was performing for a potentially viral YouTube video. Steve grinned against Tony’s mouth, at the way Tony seemed to think he was pushing Steve’s boundaries, So Steve pressed in and grabbed Tony’s ass abruptly, squeezing hard and grinding their hips together sensually, winding his other hand through Tony’s hair. He crushed their lips together, tasting every part of Tony’s mouth with his tongue, and drawing soft little noises from Tony’s throat. 

Before pulling away, he licked across Tony’s bottom lips slowly, as overtly sexually as he could, and hovered just a few millimeters apart for a long moment, their breath and heat swirling together. Then he released Tony abruptly, who stumbled back clumsily, shocked and flustered and obviously aroused. Steve just smirked, satisfied, as Tony narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“You’ve got to be the sluttiest virgin I’ve ever met,” Tony said accusingly, and Steve barked a laugh with the others.

“Thanks, it was an honor just to be nominated,” he said dryly, sinking back into his chair as Thor boomed with raucous laughter and Clint nearly spat his drink. While the others laughed and whooped, Clint sidled up to Steve like a cat, bending over him as if to kiss him. Steve closed his eyes and raised his lips, his hands coming to rest on Clint’s hips. Then just short of meeting his lips, Clint veered to the left to breathe hotly over Steve’s ear, raising goosebumps over his entire body. 

“Ah, ah, no hands,” Clint whispered, and Steve groaned softly and reluctantly put his hands on the armrests of the chair. As soon as he did, Clint straddled his lap and ground down on him liquidly, working his way back to Steve’s lips, nibbling and biting, grazing his teeth, bathing him in hot, humid air. Clint finally caught Steve’s lower lip in a stinging bite, and Steve squirmed visibly as Clint worked him over with his teeth, grinning the whole time.

When Clint finally pulled away, Steve had blooming bite marks on his throat and collarbone and was gripping the armrest of the chair hard enough to leave dents. Steve took a shaky breath as Clint stood, grinning up at him and panting slightly.

“And here I assumed Nat was the one doing all the honeypot missions,” he said, and Clint kicked his foot lightly, winking saucily.

“That’s what you get for assuming,” he said, sauntering back to the couch, where he and Natasha put their heads together, nudging each other affectionately. 

Thor wasted no time, hauling Steve to his feet and slapping Steve’s shoulder hard enough to make even him wince a bit. 

“Shield brother! Let us celebrate our friendship, as warriors celebrate victory on the battlefield!” Thor exclaimed loudly, the Asgardian mead fragrant on his breath. He pulled Steve up into a crushing bear hug, clapping him on the back and crushing their lips together. Thor’s kiss was jubilant, enthusiastic, sweet, and endearing, just as was everything about him. Steve enjoyed the scratch of Thor’s beard on his face, the honeyed scent of his hair, and the glowing joy that he seemed to carry with him at almost all times. 

Steve found himself wrapping Thor up just as tightly, getting carried away by the jubilant, infectious affection, wanting to give as good as he got, in this rare moment where he wasn’t saddled with the worry that he might break his partner. It was easily one of the most enjoyable kisses Steve had the luxury of experiencing since waking up, and he didn’t want it to end. Thor eventually pulled back with a wide, beaming smile, holding Steve at arm’s length by the shoulders, even as Steve tried to follow Thor’s lips with his own.

“Come, Steve, you must choose a mate to bed with for the night!” Thor announced, looking at the others expectantly. Steve just gaped, eyes wide. 

“Uhh,” he said, then fell back into the chair, feeling nearly drunk just from the kissing. Then he raised one shoulder and grinned. 

“Do I have to pick just one?” he asked. Tony made a choking sound in the sudden, eager silence.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I think we’ve just won the lottery.” He said, strangled. Steve just laughed and stood, heading across the room, letting his hips move just a little obscenely, keenly aware of all eyes on it. He paused at the hall, one hand trailing over the doorjamb, and looked over his shoulder at them, licking his lips at their stunned silence. 

“Coming?” he asked with a roguish smirk, arching a brow as he disappeared in the direction of the bedrooms.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song of the same name by Madonna, and the line about being the sluttiest virgin, and thanks it was an honor to be nominated, was from Texts from Last Night. I always enjoy a pithy exchange. :)


End file.
